Stealth Ops Series Box Set

by Brittney Sahin

  “And what was that?” He hadn’t witnessed what happened to her back then, and he was beginning to wonder if maybe he’d screwed up with what he’d said to her last night.

  “I need to focus on work. To fight.”

  He cocked a brow. “Killing our punching bag is your solution?”

  “Better than pummeling people, like you’ve been doing,” she shot right back.

  And now he knew how she’d coped with Marcus’s death: burying emotions and redirecting her anger and focus elsewhere. He’d been guilty of the same, but maybe what worked for him wasn’t necessarily the best route for recovery.

  “Listen, I think I misspoke last night. I want you to fight but maybe—”

  “No,” she said and edged closer. “You were right. I need this. But it’s been a while since I’ve trained. I mostly sit safely behind my computer while you guys do all the work. Maybe I wasn’t prepared in Berlin.”

  “You shouldn’t be in the field.”

  She balked. “Because I’m a woman?”

  Normally, he’d say some stupid remark to piss her off; he loved to drive her crazy. But today wasn’t a typical day. What happened to her had changed things. Hell, it had changed everything. He just hadn’t figured out what that meant yet.

  “I got you shot in France,” she said softly. “If I’m in the field, I distract you?”

  Yes, but . . . “When you’re on comms, I feel safer. You have my back, and it helps me get the job done knowing you’re there, looking out for us.”

  Her mouth pinched briefly.

  “But you should be able to defend yourself.” Not that he ever wanted her going anywhere alone ever again, but he doubted he’d be able to chain her to his side for all of eternity, even if he liked that idea.

  Maybe he could insert a tracking device into the back of her neck or arm?

  “Well, that’s why I asked you here. Will you train with me? I need to get better.”

  He allowed his lungs to fill with air as he processed her question.

  “I don’t want you going back to Angelo’s club, though,” she said a beat later. “Fight with me, instead.”

  “Let you hit me, you mean?” He cracked a smile. “Because you know I’d never lay a hand on you. Not even with gloves.”

  She moved closer, her chest practically touching his, and she lifted her chin. “You’d never touch me, huh?” Her glove skated up his chest, and he swallowed hard at the proximity.

  She’d had a bomb strapped to her chest less than ten days ago.

  Why the hell was his dick stirring in his pants right now?

  “Promise me you won’t go back.” She held his eyes. “Be with me instead.”

  Be with you? That’s all he’d wanted, even though he knew it was impossible. “Okay,” he rasped, not sure how he got sucked into doing something he may regret later.

  He went to the stereo and turned up the music, and then kicked off his boots and removed his shirt. “Let me grab some other pants from my locker. Be right back.”

  She nodded, but he could feel the heat of her stare on his back as he left.

  When he returned, wearing only his dark drawstring sweats, he found her standing at the center of the fighting cage.

  He thought back to last night, to the fight before his sister had shown up. The fight before he’d found himself drinking and then going to Jessica’s place.

  His body itched for it—the feel of control fighting gave him.

  Control. Fighting could empower Jessica, he supposed. But would it also make her like him? Dodging emotions by way of fists?

  Maybe Berlin had woken her up to the fact there was more to life than work, but now he’d single-handedly encouraged her to shield her feelings once again.

  Fuck. He blew a sigh from his lips as he ducked under the rope, and she tossed a pair of gloves at him. “I won’t be needing these. I’m not hitting you, remember?” He shook his head lightly as he dropped them off to the side. “Are you sure you should be doing this right now?” He had to at least try again. “Maybe you should talk through your—”

  “Unless you’re Oprah or Dr. Phil, that’ll be a hard pass from me.” She cleared her throat. “Besides, I did about all the talking I need to for the next few lifetimes last night.”

  Titanium walls resurrected.

  I’m such an idiot. “Jessica, I meant what I said about not wanting you to quit or give up, but that doesn’t mean I think you need to be hard as—”

  “Ice?” She stepped in closer, her eyes possessing him, sucking him into her universe. “A rock?” She removed her gloves and tossed them next to his. “I need this.” She snapped her hands into fists in front of her face in a boxing position. “Now that we’re done with this wonderful talk, let’s fight.”

  He observed the faint bruises on her skin, and anger bunched in his stomach. But he gave in to her. Like always. He flicked his wrists, motioning for her to step closer, and she followed his command.

  “Don’t hold back. I need to be better prepared. Stronger than the enemy.”

  His heart was going to break at her words. Hell, it’d already broken a million times over at every reminder of what she’d been through.

  But he nodded because he couldn’t get himself to say anything.

  Over the next hour, they practiced everything from rear-naked chokeholds to the basic karate self-defense moves.

  And now, Jessica was boxed beneath him, her back to the floor. She squeezed her eyes closed as he held his body weight above her. “You ready to stop?” A smile flickered over his face when she focused on him again.

  Her chest heaved up and down with deep breaths, and her skin glistened with sweat. He’d often envisioned her in this position, but for very different reasons.

  She tipped her chin and found the ceiling. “I’m not done. No.”

  “I think you should be done. For today, at least.” He angled his head, not wanting to get up yet.

  “Ten more minutes?” Her tongue swept over her bottom lip as she steadied the rhythm of her breathing.

  God, he shouldn’t want to suck that bottom lip. To pull it between his teeth and taste her.

  He inwardly groaned.

  She pressed a hand to his sweat-covered chest. “Angel wings are very fitting since you think you’re my guardian angel.” She stared at the ink. “And the Irish fighter on your right arm—”

  “What’s going on?” a voice called out, killing her words.

  Asher’s eyes widened, and he pushed off her and rose. He extended a palm to help her stand before his gaze veered to Luke heading their way from the elevator.

  “Let me handle this,” she said with a nod, and then started for her brother. “We were training.”

  Asher left the ring, snatched his shirt from where he’d tossed it, and pulled it on. Talk about an erection killer. Then again . . . maybe he needed a cock block to keep his mind from diving into dangerous waters. Waters he’d probably drown in given the woman he was with.

  He turned off the music and started toward them.

  “Why are you here? And training? Really?” Luke folded his arms, tucking his hands beneath the armpits of his army-green long-sleeved shirt. His blue eyes ripped straight to Asher.

  “I asked him to train with me. I needed to get out of my apartment. To get my head back together,” she said, crossing her arms to match Luke’s defensive stance.

  “You should be resting. You were in Berlin only—”

  “I remember exactly where I was,” she interrupted. “You don’t need to remind me.”

  Luke’s brows pinched together. “You should’ve asked me to help you. I could’ve trained with you.”

  “You need to focus on Eva and Lara,” she said. “How’d you know we were down here?”

  “I saw you on the security cameras when I came into the office.”

  Of course, he’d be there at the crack of dawn. They’d all been arriving before the sun rose to get in extra work time. Asher had been so distrac
ted he’d nearly forgotten about the security cams and how it might look to Luke if he saw Asher on top of his sister.

  “You should get back home and rest.” Luke’s voice had a soft plea to it, and he pressed a hand to her shoulder.

  “I’ve got to take a shower.” She peered over her shoulder to glance at Asher. “Thank you,” she mouthed and then started for the women’s locker room.

  “Sorry, man,” Asher said once she was out of earshot. “She texted me and asked me to meet her here.”

  “Does she know you’ve been fighting again?”

  Asher gripped the back of his neck. “I’m not going to fight anymore.”

  Luke’s mouth tightened, and he sighed. “Get cleaned up and then meet me upstairs. The rest of Bravo is on their way.” He headed toward the elevators, his back muscles pinched tight.

  Asher dragged his hands down his face and then went into the men’s locker room. He saw the text from Luke asking him to meet at the office—the message he hadn’t gotten since he’d been in the ring with Jessica.

  He set his phone down and removed his sweatpants.

  “Thanks for not telling him about last night.”

  Asher pivoted to face Jessica in the doorway, only wearing his boxers. “What if I was buck naked in here?”

  “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” A white towel was wrapped around her body. Her hair not yet touched by water. “I just wanted to catch you before we showered and went upstairs.”

  “And you thought coming in here in only a towel and with me in my boxers would be the perfect time?” He hoped to hell he’d keep his dick from leaping to attention at the sight of her.

  She remained near the door, which was probably a good idea, and he leaned his shoulder against the wall of lockers.

  “I need this to just be between us. I don’t want anyone to know what I said last night. I don’t want them to know I got . . . weak.”

  He pushed away from the lockers, unable to stop himself from striding closer to her. “To let the guys know you’re human?”

  “Luke has enough on his plate. I don’t want him to worry about me.”

  “Too late for that.” He stopped a few inches away, focusing on the hand that clutched the white towel to her body. “He’s your brother. It’s in the job description.”

  “Well, I . . .”

  “I can’t keep secrets from him. He’s already on my case about not telling him about Aleppo and—”

  “That’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

  He tipped her chin with his fist to focus on her eyes.

  “I’m not asking you to keep a secret, but I am asking you to protect my privacy. When we go upstairs, I don’t want them looking at me like some broken China doll. I can’t deal with them being fragile with me, and if they know what I said to you last night—”

  “Okay.” He lowered his hand from her chin, and her gaze dipped to his chest.

  “Same time tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “And you’re not going to Angelo’s tonight?”

  He let go of a breath. “If you stay in the locker room practically naked for much longer, I can’t make any promises. I’ll need to relieve some tension.” He hadn’t meant to answer so honestly, but damn. Did she not know what being in a towel in front of him was doing to him right now? And the guilt at wanting her after what she’d been through was going to shred him.

  “You can relieve tension with me instead.” A true blush—one he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen on her—touched her cheeks.

  “Oh, can I?”

  “I mean, fighting.” She shifted back a step, and he propped a hand on the wall at his side and studied her.

  I’m going to hell. “Please, get out of here,” he practically growled, unable to hide the bulge in his boxers anymore. His hand converted to a fist on the wall, and he fought the urge to bite into his lip as he studied her.

  Her gaze journeyed to his tented boxers.

  “Go,” he said with a laugh.

  “Yeah, okay.” She touched his chest, pressed up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for the fight,” she whispered and left the room so he could take the coldest shower of his damn life.

  “What do we have?” Jessica dropped her purse onto Luke’s desk and joined the team at the conference table where Bravo was gathered. She scooted to the table, placing herself between Owen and Luke and straight across from Asher.

  Now, like a damn idiot, all he could think about was her in that towel thirty minutes ago. He cleared his throat and glanced at Luke. There was a visible strain in his throat. He probably had concerns about her being back at work.

  “Uh, what are you doing here?” Liam was the first to speak.

  When Asher directed his focus back to Jessica, he noticed the pearl earrings he’d given her for Christmas. It was the first time he’d seen them on her. She’d said she was going to save them for a special occasion.

  “You guys need my help.” She clasped her hands atop the table, looking strong as hell, her blue eyes sharp and focused again.

  The Jessica everyone knew was back, but he couldn’t shake the worry that came along with the return of her old self.

  “Ah, welcome back, then?” Knox said it as more of a question, his eyes skating over to Luke with concern.

  Everyone appeared to be looking to Luke for a clue as to how to handle Jessica’s appearance at the office.

  “Is it safe for you to be walking the streets?” Owen looked at her.

  “I wore a wig to the office this morning.”

  Asher hadn’t seen it, but then again, she’d already stripped to yoga pants and a sports bra before he’d arrived.

  “So.” She drummed her nails on the table now. “What do we have? Why’d you call everyone here to work so early?”

  Knox laughed. “You kidding? We’ve been rolling up here before the sun even gets her ass out of bed every day since . . .” He dropped his words. No one wanted to mention what had happened to Jessica, not the second she was back.

  Her lashes lowered for only a beat before she gathered her focus back on the team.

  Luke gave a slight nod as if trying to come to terms with her being present after what had happened to her. “Echo Team’s in Detroit. Looks like an old al-Nusra cell may have been recently activated.”

  Jessica took a slight breath, barely noticeable, when Luke delivered the news. “How’d we find this out if we’re not on the case?”

  “A tip from one of my guys at the FBI,” Luke said. “Since they know Samir went to his uncle’s enforcer, they decided to track down everyone still on the streets affiliated with Yasser Hadeed.”

  She cocked her head, clearly needing more details. “And were they right? Anything turn up in Detroit?”

  “Nothing they’ll tell us, which is why Echo is there, so we’re not kept in the dark.” Luke straightened. “Wyatt’s working on mirroring the phone of the guy he believes to be in charge. Once we have access to his texts and data, we should be able to determine how Samir has been in contact with him. Maybe we can figure out their next moves.”

  “I’m sorry. I should’ve come in sooner.” She frowned. “I know more about Yasser Hadeed than anyone, and if Samir is taking any pages from his playbook—I’ll be able to help.”

  “How’d Hadeed make contact with his people in the past?” Liam asked.

  She stared at her hand on the desk, her mind possibly skipping back to the past. “Ciphertexts in the classified sections of newspapers. I’m betting Samir utilized the same route.”

  “Someone, probably the enforcer from Berlin, told Samir the old protocol,” Asher said with a shake of the head, disappointed Yasser’s enforcer had slipped through the government’s fingers six years ago.

  “We need to get those phones mirrored and fast.” Luke scratched at his neck. “I don’t want to be two steps behind the FBI. This is our fight.”

  “What else do we have?” she asked a beat later.

  Luke op
ened his laptop, tapped at a few keys, and then slid it to her.

  Jessica stared at the screen for a few minutes. The room dead quiet.

  “Ara was in contact with her aunt for that long?” She looked up from the laptop. “I taught her everything. Selecting a key. Using a cipher to encrypt a message.” A few quick blinks later, she added, “Apparently, she taught Fatima.”

  “You can thank Liam for that find.” Luke tipped his head toward him. “The translations from Arabic to English are fairly accurate.”

  “So, that’s how she knew Fatima was in Paris?” Her fingers brushed over her lips as if in thought. “I can’t believe she’d take the risk by staying in contact with her old life.”

  And Asher knew what else she was thinking: how could Ara have lied to her about it? But people didn’t always think straight when it came to family. To the ones they loved.

  “They emailed each other only a few times a year,” Liam said. “But in the more recent messages dating back to the last five months or so, Fatima started to ask Ara where she was living. And she began insisting Ara reach out to her cousin.”

  “Samir,” Jessica whispered. “I still don’t understand why Samir would become this person. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Well,” Liam began, “his brother was killed eight months ago.”

  “By us?” she asked, shock in her eyes.

  “No, Samir’s brother had joined the rebel fighters against the Assad regime. He was taken out by Assad’s military,” Liam explained. “But it looks like the event pushed Samir over the edge. Maybe he blamed the US and Europe for allowing Assad to remain in power?”

  “The timeline would fit, I guess.” She surveyed the team. “What else did you find out?”

  “Since I couldn’t get the hospital in France to discuss patient records, I had to hack their systems to access Fatima’s charts.” Liam gave her a lopsided smirk. “You’re a good teacher; what can I say?”

  “My teaching helped Ara send messages to her aunt—getting her killed.” She rubbed her forehead, and Liam winced at her words. “Sorry, go on.”

  “Fatima didn’t have cancer,” Liam said. “Her scans were clean, so I think she lied to Ara to get her to visit.”